User blog:Squibstress/Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart - Chapter 8
Title: Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart Author: Squibstress Rating: MA Genre: Drama Warning/s: Explicit sexual situations; non-con; character death Published: 05/06/2017 Disclaimer: All characters, settings and other elements from the Harry Potter franchise belong to J. K. Rowling. Chapter Eight The Rules of Engagement As she climbed the spiral staircase, Minerva heard some familiar music emanating from the Headmaster’s study. When she entered the room, she recognised it as the Overture to Tannhäuser. Snape was standing in front of the desk with his back to the door and hadn’t heard her knock. She listened for a few moments, then spoke. “I didn’t know you liked Wagner,” she said, alerting Snape to her presence. She suddenly realised she had known him since he was a boy, yet she knew very little about the man. He turned and said, “Yes. But if it bothers you, I’ll turn it off.” “Not at all,” she replied. “Albus and I often listened to opera.” It felt good to say her husband’s name aloud. “It brings back some lovely memories. He was especially partial to Verdi.” Snape said, “I would have thought Mozart.” “No. I think the epic sweep of Verdi’s themes appealed to him. Don Carlo was his favourite,” she answered. “I’m not surprised,” Snape said sardonically and immediately regretted it. The opera’s libretto, in which an aging king orders the cleansing of heretics by auto-da-fé and tortures himself with doubts about the fidelity of his much younger wife, was perhaps a bit too close to home. Whatever sins Snape thought Dumbledore had committed, he had no desire to tarnish Minerva’s memories of him. Snape’s lapse in discretion apparently didn’t disturb her. She said nothing. The pair stood listening as the music crashed and roiled its way to its conclusion. “Finite,” said Snape softly when the overture was ended. The sudden silence was overwhelming. After a moment, Severus said gently, “You can still change your mind, Minerva. I won’t think any the less of you.” He realised he had just committed his second blunder in less than five minutes: why would she care what he thought of her? “Thank you, but no. I’ve made my peace with it,” she replied, knowing she was lying. She hoped he wouldn’t notice. Snape just stood there. “I think it would be best to just get on with it,” she said without looking at him. “As you wish,” he said. Third blunder. At this rate, he was going to be neck and neck with Weasley for the Imbecile of the Year Award. Nothing about this had anything to do with Minerva’s wishes. To cover his faux pas, he asked immediately, “Would you like a drink before we begin?” He had placed a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhisky on his desk earlier that evening. He had thought she might need it. There was only one glass. “No, thank you, Severus.” On the whole, she thought, it would be better to approach this with a clear head. “But if you’d like one, please go ahead,” she said. “No.” Severus would have liked the disinhibition the potent liquor might provide, but he knew it could interfere with his ability to carry out his part in the plan. His apprehension suddenly got the better of him. “I’m sorry I got you into this, Minerva. I never intended to. I wish …” He stopped mid-sentence. He wasn’t sure what he wished, and anyway, it made no difference. “Wha canna be cured, maun be endured,” she replied, using a pet phrase of her gran’s. She gave Severus a wan smile. He recognised it as more whistling in the dark. “How do we begin?” she asked, gently prodding. When formulating the plan, they had spoken in general outlines, neither one wanting to examine the specifics too closely until absolutely necessary. “I think we should set some ground rules first,” he said. The notion of rules gave both of them a comforting straw to grasp at. “I will do everything in my power not to hurt you, but I’m sure you know what the Dark Lord expects,” he said, forcing himself to look her squarely in the eyes for the first time that evening. She needed to understand what she was agreeing to. “Yes, I do,” she answered simply. “I trust your judgement; you know best what will please him. I know you can’t be gentle.” Her words set an ache deep in his chest. “I have become a consummate actor over the years,” he said, “however, this kind of pretence is new to me. I have done some research into the practises of aficionados of sadomasochistic role-playing and have found some ideas we might borrow.” He spoke a trace too quickly. Merlin help him, he’s blushing, she thought. His embarrassment reminded her that he had years less experience in negotiating sexual matters than she did. The thought gave her a welcome feeling of control. She smiled at him again, trying to ease his discomfort. “You are a man of many resources,” she said. “What have you found to help us?” He crossed to the desk and took a sheet of parchment from the top drawer. He handed it to her, still acutely uncomfortable. “This is a list of activities that might make up part of our scenarios,” he said. “I have left out the items I feel are inappropriate, but I think you should review the list and strike off anything you would not want me to carry out,” he said. She looked at the list with curiosity. It was rather short and mundane, she thought, given the infinite variety of human sexual expression. It didn’t include many things she would have considered a part of normal relations between a man and woman. “There’s nothing I find especially objectionable,” she said handing it back to him. How can she be so sanguine about this? he wondered, returning the parchment to the desk drawer. He was still blushing. She watched him and suddenly wondered if he had been a virgin the night he had raped her. She pushed that horrifying thought from her mind. In the week that had followed his revelation, she hadn’t stopped to consider how that night in the Great Hall might have affected him. She couldn’t afford to think about it now. “Nevertheless, I think it might be advisable for us to agree on a safe word,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “A ‘safe word’?” She was unfamiliar with the term. “It is a word selected beforehand that indicates one of the participants wants to stop the scenario.” “I see.” The idea made great sense. “Do you have any suggestions?” “I think it should be something that you decide,” he answered. “It should be something that neither of us would be likely to say as part of the pretence,” he added. She thought for a moment. “How about ‘Quaffle’?” she asked. He raised an eyebrow. “Seeing as we share an interest in Quidditch,” she added, raising an eyebrow back at him. ← Back to Chapter 7 On to Chapter 9→ Category:Chapters of Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart